Hells Bells!!!

Replace Maggete with Peja in that last post and move him out of LA and to Sactown. Ding dong the witch is dead/traded!

So, finally I go over and I open the door and just as I suspected: It's some big fat hermaphrodite with a Flock-Of-Seagulls haircut and only one nostril

my Dog wears a path on the same line, and lately i've been taking his advice

Pig Nash Pontificates: A Farewell to Arms

I know he's not officially gone yet, but I'm pretty sure we're getting Maggete.

Well I suppose that since the Artest era's end is drawing nigh, I should give him a little farewell.

Dear Mr. Artest,

I remember it like it was yesterday, or a few years ago, whichever. We're not seeking a trade to send off Jalen, we already found one! Brad Miller, Ron Mercer, and Kevin Ollie have all moved on and you are about to be our last and most longing memory of the Bull trade.

You finished the season so very well. I remember many of the Pacers fans picking you as their favorite player on the court, and I count myself as one of those fans. You brought so much intensity, so much desire. You played tremendous defense and your offense improved continually. The Pacers couldn't get past the Nets but the future looked so bright.

But then the first obvious signs of you being a problem began to surface to the Indiana fans. I know some will debate this and say he's always been like this, but I don't remember anyone calling for your head until the 2003 season. We were 34 games above five hundred at the all star break and you were well on your way to DPOY. 12 games missed due to suspensions, including the destruction of the TV at Madison Square Garden changed all that though.

You were showing your signs of weakness and the Pacers were upset by a weaker Boston Celtic team in the first round of the playoffs after sputtering into them. We went out and got Rick Carlisle to sooth the savage beast that was this team and give it direction. All was set up for you to dominate and lead Reggie and the Pacers to the promised land.

But then the Detroit Pistons happened, and the block happened, and you couldn't carry us past the Pistons by yourself even though you didn't have to. This season was your coming out party to the world. You helped us get our 61 win season banner, you were an All Star, you won DPOY, you were on your best behavior, and you got almost nothing but praise from the media. You were so happy.

Then the powers that be traded away Baby Al to remove the glut at forward. They got another fiery player from the Atlanta Hawks: Stephen Jackson, a prolific scorer and someone with Finals experience and a Ring. This was to be Reggie's curtain call, his last hurrah, his comeuppance. And you were going to lead him there.

It certainly looked that way to begin the season. You and your team mates looked ready to dominate the rest of the NBA. You couldn't miss a shot and by November 19 the Pacers were 6-2 and about to beat their hated rival the Detroit Pistons on their home floor. The only problem seemed to be a silly one with your Record. All was almost right in the world, or so it looked.

And you proved that looks are deceiving. After the game was already decided, Ben Wallace went up for a layup and you fouled him a little to hard for his liking. Words were exchanged, he pushed you in the face, you lied on the scorers table, the cup was thrown, and well…you know the rest. You betrayed us again. 9 games into it, you destroyed Reggie’s last season, and gave the organization a black eye. But maybe it was all a blessing in disguise. Reggie was able to lead this team to the same fate as the 61 win team by placing them on his old back. And our less than stellar record and some odd happenings in the NBA draft landed us Danny Granger.

All was set up for your departure. Most fans were done with you. But Larry Bird, Donnie Walsh, and the rest of TPTB stood behind you. They helped you with your mandated anger management and never sought to trade you publicly. Larry appeared with you on the cover of Sports Illustrated. Maybe that was the curse that brought it all crashing down. You made it 17 games before you betrayed us for the last time. You went to the Indianapolis Star and demanded a trade. You confirmed it on Fox Television. You never went to Donnie or Larry with your problems. Instead you made a spectacle of yourself like you always do. That’s why this one hurt the most though, because we knew it was coming. We tried to forgive or forget. We tried to cheer you on. But, you don’t care about us.
You were a beauty to watch. A power unequalled in the NBA, a tough heart, a tough body: you had all the basketball skills in the world and you played the right way once you took care of your flagrant problem. But you could never get your head right, and so you’re off to LA where all head cases go. You’ll fit right in, even if you aren’t playing for the big show. I actually hope you do well, but I don’t expect it. You’ll find some reason to become unhappy with the Clippers.

We get Corey Maggete in return, who is a nice player. He’s no Ron Artest though. He just won’t ever be on your level, but that’s the price we pay for hanging on to you to long. For letting ourselves be betrayed. To be a complete dork, I’ll use a Star Wars reference. You are Anakin Skywalker. You were the CHOSEN ONE. You were to bring balance to the Force! But instead, you’re Darth Vader, the evil Sith lord. So that’s why we say goodbye and good riddance. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out. Excuse me if I do a little jig.

Na na na na, na na na na, hey hey hey, goodbye
He'll never love you, the way that I love you
'Cause if he did, no no, he wouldn't make you cry
He might be thrillin' baby but a-my love (my love, my love)
So dog-gone willin'
So kiss him (I wanna see you kiss him, wanna see you kiss him)
Go on and kiss him goodbye
Na na na na, hey hey-hey, goodbye
Na na na na, na na na na, hey hey hey, goodbye

Listen to me now
He's never near you to comfort and cheer you
When all those sad tears are fallin' baby from your eyes
He might be thrillin' baby but a-my love (my love, my love)
So dog-gone willin'
So kiss him (I wanna see you kiss him. I wanna see you kiss him)
Go on and kiss him goodbye
Na-na na-na-na na na na na na na, hey hey hey, goodbye

Hey hey-hey, goodbye
Na na na na, na na na na, hey hey hey, goodbye
Na na na na, na na na na, hey hey hey, goodbye
Na na na na, na na na na, hey hey hey, goodbye [repeat many times and fade out]


So, finally I go over and I open the door and just as I suspected: It's some big fat hermaphrodite with a Flock-Of-Seagulls haircut and only one nostril

like drinking poison Like Eating Glass it's so cold in this house

So Target rejected me. No, no. Sorry, they were unable to offer me a position; they were appreciative of my interest though. :rolleyes: I suck at those hypothetical questions. Must be because I am insane.

Last night I went with Abby, Vanessa, Val, Vinh, and Mario ice skating. I suck at going slow. Afterward, me and the three girls got hot and steamy in Vanessa's tub. Let your imagination run wild.

Tomorrow I'm going to Andy's ice skating thing. (if I keep ice skating I'll become gayer than Mario. I promise to stop after tomorrow.) I also might go get my grandma's laptop, also might go hang at the Pacer Digest party for an hour or so. We'll also take the tree down as Christmas is over. Busy day.

I'm super bad at meeting girls when I'm not doing something special. I do much better with girls that don't know me. I think that's a bad sign. Also, Pat Robertson makes me mad. Peace out! (I shouldn't say that)

Oh sure you can bite my head off without mating with me, I understand. You have ISSUES.

we wasn't s'posed to make it past 25, jokes on you we still alive

We Don't Care what people say, but I didn't make it past twenty five. It seems odd to me that I'm so angry about 15 posts on a blog. It's not like they are my best friends over there. Jonah and Nathan are the only ones on it that I really know. I was looking forward to meet Michael. Apparently, I'm just annoying.

I think I did well not cursing at him when he was explaining why he kicked me off.

Enough about that though. Tomorrow I'm going up to Kristin's grandmother's viewing. She had Alzheimers. I won my fantasy football championship. (it's unofficial but unless I really screwed up the scoring, I won) That's fun; it was a pacers digest league so that's even better. So I don't know what else is goin on this week but if you want to holler, you know how to get to me! (if you don't, then aim me at weirdmdh)

Well, I'm excited about the new year and the new blog and the new experiences.

Oh sure you can bite my head off without mating with me, I understand. You have ISSUES.

If You're Gone, maybe it's time to go home

So, here is me. Apparently I'm too annoying for Compendium. I'll be reposting my posts from the past six months over here.

Oh sure you can bite my head off without mating with me, I understand. You have ISSUES.